When in Rome
by SheyenneEve
Summary: Lovino Vargas is a student at the Italian School of the Arts, and because Heaven forbid things go Lovino's way, he meets Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. The odd pair are tossed into many awkward situations (definitely NOT on Lovino's part) and eventually make a discovery that neither of them ever saw coming. Ever. Warning: Language Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
1. Strike a Pose

**Author's Note:**  


**Ciao bella! **

**This is my first story so I'd love if you lovely's reviewed it! ****I'm actually really excited for this story as writing is one of my passions, especially humor. The material for the story is fairly light and, in my opinion, realistic and relatable. Please tell me what you think of it.**

**Without further ado, may I present to you... **

**~When in Rome~**

* * *

Ch.1- When in Rome... Strike a Pose

Sunlight filtered through the closed white sheer curtains and bathed the entire bedroom in a faint golden tinge. The bed was getting the blunt of the 'Celestial Fire Ball', which was definitely NOT a pleasant way to get woken up in the morning!

What. The. Fuck.

"Hot damn! I'm going to get roasted alive if this keeps up!" I groaned, in a very manly way of course. After all, I was the freaking epitome of manly man machoness! Yeah, that's right! And don't believe otherwise!

The light was blinding! Practically burning my freaking eyes out! Instead of basking in the sun's rays of doom, I sat up, rubbed my poor eyes, and stretched my sore body, wincing slightly as I did. Sleeping in an uncomfortable position for eight hours will do that to you! Just another average day in the life of Lovino Vargas. And this was on a good day! And, of course, I stumbled over a moving box, falling flat on my face, because I was Lovino Vargas and my life fucking sucked!

Trudging towards the bathroom, I ran a hand through my messy, auburn hair, skillfully dodging my deviant curl, like a freaking bad ass, if I do say so myself. I stared at my complexion in the mirror, and grimaced slightly as I did, I had dark circles and my hair stuck up in various directions.

Sighing slightly, I turned on the shower and soon hot steam made my reflection turn blurry and vignette. I looked faded and ephemeral.

I scoffed, I almost looked fragile. The heck? I'm a man! Not a little girl, who writes this stuff?!

"What the fuck ever," I muttered and climbed in.

After my relaxing shower, I got ready and dressed for school.

The Italian School of the Arts, or ISA for short, located in the heart of Rome, is an Arts school for gifted, talented artists to express themselves through their admittedly skilled craftsmanship in the arts. From music to painting to sculpting to photography, this school had it all. The structure and architecture of the school was grand and designed, literally, with students in mind.

The entire building was the embodiment of art itself. Tall pillars and long glass windows made up the front of the building. As one enters, they are greeted with student art along the foyer and halls. The ceiling was glass as well and the back gardens were lush with greenery and more art. There was even a stain glass bridge that connected the student dormitory with the actual building. In other words, it was breathtakingly perfect...

So don't even ask how in ten thousand blue fucks I, Lovino Vargas, of all people, got accepted into such a prestigious school. Since I couldn't tell you if I wanted to!

All I can say is that after my (useless) brother, Feliciano, and I graduated high school, he somehow persuaded me to apply to the ISA with him. So I submitted my application and some artwork and, shockingly, got accepted. And of course Feli got in, since he's a God damn genius when it came to anything creative and artsy.

"Feli! Wake up! Do you want to be late on your first day?" I threw a pillow (hard) at the lump in the bed across the room.

"Ve~! I'm up Lovi! I swear," the lump groggily answered and got up, revealing a sleepy Feliciano. Feli looked a lot like me, though he had a cute, innocent air to him while I was his polar opposite, being pissed and scowling all the time like a PMSy bitch.

"Tch! I'll believe it when I see it. Now hurry up, we still have to grab some breakfast!" I chastised,"And don't call me 'Lovi'," I added, growling for good measure.

The kid was fast when food was involved, he was showered and dressed in fifteen minutes.

I nonchalantly glanced at the clock on the nightstand, it read 8:17,"Sweet fuck, Feli! We're going to be late! Class is at 8:30!" I pulled him out the door.

"Ve~ but Lovi! I'm sorry! Please don't be mad!" Feli whined as I dragged him down the hall and across the bridge.

"Damn. No breakfast today!" I cursed loudly.

Feli whimpered at my comment and sniffled the rest of the way, mourning over his lost meal. Geez. How does he think I feel? I mean, if I hadn't waited on him, I could've had breakfast and arrived on time to my class. But nooo! Being the saint I was I waited for the idiot and received nothing in return (except a possibly broken nose). Since I was Lovino Fucking Vargas and heaven forbid things actually go my way for once!

I shuffled to class angrily only to be hit by a wall. A huge wall. A fucking huge wall that ran into me and sent Feli and I sprawling on the ground. The wall hit us! Hey, it could happen!

"The fuck?" I yelled loudly, a (bad) habit I'd had forever was to cuss out anything that annoyed me, even things that didn't!

"Sorry. Didn't see you there," the wall answered.

Yeah, a walking, talking wall, go figure.

I got up and glared at the wall, which turned out to be a man. A German man. A tall, muscular German man. Blonde hair slicked back and blue eyes, the whole package. Go figure. I scowled up at him, not that I was short, no, I was average height for my age, he was just a tall fucker.

"What the-?! What are you staring at David Hasselhoff!" I growled, damn he was huge, he could be the Berlin Wall for pasta's sake!

"Nothing. Sorry, are you okay?" The (German) bastard asked as he helped Feli up.

"Don't touch him Potato Muncher!" I barked.

He just brushed off the comment and helped Feli up.

"Ve~! Thank you, um, er..." Feli started.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt," the Berlin Wall replied.

"Ve~! Thank you, Ludwig!" My (stupid) brother exclaimed.

"No problem," Muscles responded.

"Ooh! Are those pastries?" Feli asked, mouth watering.

"Yes. Would you like some?" The Potato offered. Feli grabbed a Danish.

"Ve~! Yes please! Did you know, we were running late today? Aha!" He took a bite,"Delicious! Try some Lovi, Ve~!"

"No way am I eating that Potato Bastard's food! He almost broke my fucking nose!" I spat. Damn I could be a real bitc-bastard! Yeah, bastard! Wait-no! Hasselhoff was the bastard! Not me! I'm a saint for not beating his sorry, German ass! Yea, that's right!

"But Lovi, it was an accident," Feli replied quietly.

"Are you serious, Feli! Are you kidding me? You're defending the stranger. The German Potato Sucker!" I was fuming. How dare Feli defend this wall that almost killed us! And he was eating his food! And now we were going to be late!

...

Fuck.

"Damn, Feli! We're late!" I grabbed him and ran.

"Ve~! Bye, Ludwig! See you later!" Feli called.

"Dammit, Feli! Don't say that! He might think you mean it!" I scolded. Flipping the German off since... since I just could dammit!

"Ve~! But I do mean it-"

"Not now!" I cut him off, just as we reached his class.

"Here's the painting studio. Have fun," I said gruffly and began to walk away.

"Ve~! Wait, Lovi!" Feli ran and hugged me tight. I hugged back, since that's what good big brother's do dammit!

* * *

I strolled to my class slowly. Not because I was nervous, no, I'm too manly for that! It's just that... that since I was already late, there was no point to scramble to get there. But I did pick up the pace a bit. Not because I was afraid of getting in trouble, it's just I didn't want to get a crappy part of the studio. Yeah, that's believabl-right! It's true!

Damn. It hurts when you slam your head against the (real- not fake German) wall!

I stood outside of the studio for a bit wondering how I should enter, before my hot-tempered Italian blood screamed 'screw it' and I walked in.

The studio was a lot like Feli's, huge and airy, with white walls and long windows shining a fuck ton of bright, natural light from that damn ball of fire in the sky. Although instead of easels and canvas', there were tables, to plan picture layouts, and a door that led to the dark room where pictures could be developed.

A camera was placed on each table in the room and there were a few students talking in the room.

I walked over to an empty table and sat on the stool, examining the camera. I took it all in, the lens, the aperture, even the shutter. It was a fine camera indeed.

"Do you like it?" A friendly voice asked.

I turned to see a young, blonde woman with huge violet eyes, maybe a few years older than myself, grinning at me.

I nodded,"Yeah. It's pretty good, for a school issued camera." Not wanting to show too much happiness in front of a stranger. Hell, I rarely showed happiness around Feli, and he's my brother!

"Yup! It is! I'm Anna, by the way! And you are?" The blonde, Anna, chatted.

"Lovino," I stated. This chick was chipper. And headache inducing, but alas, I was a gentleMAN and would never be rude to a woman. Unless she was a bitch, but Anna lacked the bitch vibe greatly.

"Cool name! You're Italian I take it," I nodded,"Sweet, have fun!" She smiled and skipped away, literally. Though kind, the blonde seemed to be lacking in the brains department, a reincarnation of Feliciano. I'd say the girl version, but let's be honest, Feli was feminine enough to pass as it was. Not sure if I wanted- or could handle- another friend with Feliciano-esque qualities I shrugged.

I stared out one of the windows that overlooked the courtyard. There was a fountain, sculpted by students, of course, a few guitarists strumming away, and even some students writing poetry.

"Good morning class!" A familiar voice sounded melodiously throughout the vast studio,"my name is Anna," No way,"and I'll be your mentor on your journey of self discovery as artists finding your way in this huge world, full of opportunity!" She grinned, my jaw dropped.

"This is free studio time so feel free to wander around campus to take some practice shots with the camera's. The garden and courtyard are available at your disposal. Have fun and ask me anything!" She finished.

With that dismissal, the students filed out to 'capture a moment and still it for eternity'.

Yeah, I can be pretty freaking poetic at times! Okay, those were Anna's words, but still!

"Lovino? Aren't you going to explore the campus? Take some snapshots and show them to me!" Anna pleaded.

"You didn't tell me you were my mentor," I stated.

"Well, you never said you were my protégée-"

"I am not!" I interrupted.

"Okay... 'Student', then. But really, we'd just met. That would be weird if I just blurted that out of the blue!" The blonde grinned coyly.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm going to take pictures now. Bye," I walked to the door.

"Oh Lovino! Don't be upset! I was joking, honest!" She giggled.

"Yeah. See ya," I smirked.

* * *

I walked around the corridor for a bit, thinking to maybe visit with Feli. Not because I was bored or anything, just to check on him like a good big brother would! Although he may be busy, actually focusing for once, so I decided against it.

I wandered outside, unto the courtyard where I saw the other artists from the photography studio window.

Holy fuck! It was bright out here! How could all these people see without sunglasses taped to their damn faces!

I saw the fountain from earlier and decided to take my camera for a 'test drive' as my mentor would say. I settled on a position to just capture the (fucking) sun being 'embraced' by the man and woman dancing on the carefully articulated waves. Damn, this school was talented!

'Wow. I got a great shot!' I mused to myself. Unable to hide a small smile from spreading on my lips.

"_καλημέρα_. It's nice to meet you," a (tired?) male voice greeted.

"Sweet fuck!" I clutched my chest," What are you doing?!" I turned to glare at the motherfucker who had the guts to startl-attack me! That sounded better! Shut it he totally attacked me... With his evil words... Whatever.

"Sorry. I scared you?" The man questioned, drowsily.

"No! It's just I have very sensitive eyes... and the sun. I looked at it and... um," I stuttered. Geez am I a girl or what?

...

Don't fucking answer that.

"Heracles Karpusi," the man said. He had shaggy dark hair and brown eyes. He also looked sleepy. What?! Am I too boring for the bastard?

He yawned. The bastard yawned. What. The-

"Lovino Vargas," I responded curtly, placing my signature scowl on my face.

"You a photographer?" Heracles (the bastard) asked, sounding bored.

"How in seven Hells did you know?" I asked genuinely shocked. Great, now the guy is psychic?

"Camera." He nodded at the infernal device clutched in my hand.

"Oh" I felt like how my brother must have felt all the time right then, clueless. Or at least what he would have thought, if the bastard had enough brain cells for that.

"Yeah. I'm a sculptor. Made it myself," he nodded at the fountain.

"No way? A lazy guy like you?" I stated.

"Being Greek does not mean I'm lazy, but yes, I made this fountain."

"Oh" damn my vocabulary is in desperate need of expansion. Maybe I should talk to those literature students...

"Yea," he began to lay on the bench (the Hell?),"see you around," he closed his eyes.

I began to walk away, didn't want the bastard's company anyway, when he spoke up again.

"You like cats?" seriously?!

"Um... Sure, they're okay I guess," I heard myself mumble.

"Good" he said. His eyes weren't even open!

I left and set out to explore the gardens. Let me tell you, the gardens, yea... freaking huge, with flowers and fruits and vegetables and all that shit.

I saw more sculptures and other artsy items scattered throughout the grounds. Finally, I decided to return to the class, just in case. Anna never said when- or if- to come back, but i figured I'd been gone awhile.

* * *

"How was it?" Anna greeted me as I entered the studio.

"Good. I got some decent shots, at least. Met a cat freak named Hercules or something..." I answered glancing at the wall clock. It was a huge camera with the time in the lens. It read 9:30, I'd been gone a hour.

"Oh! You mean Heracles! He's sweet, loves sleeping and cats, but he is an A-Mazing sculptor! Did you see his fountain?" She pressed, violet eyes shining.

"Yea, really good. He's got talent," I muttered.

"Develop the pictures so I can see them when you get a chance okay?" Anna said suddenly, sounding almost serious. Almost.

"Yeah. Sure thing."

"Great! Well you still have some studio time so..." She glanced at the darkroom.

"I will, I will. Just fair warning, I didn't take a ton like the other students spazzing out." I gestured out the window to said spaz's.

"That's fine. That just means you knew what you wanted to capture and didn't want any excess in the way!"

"Hmm." I walked in the room and closed the door.

Crap. Even the dark room was huge.

I worked assiduously, placing the negatives in the chemical baths for development. After a freaking long while, they were done. I examined my work, and I had to admit, it wasn't terrible. The fountain shot was definitely my best piece, but the garden shots were pretty nice!

I stepped out into the bright studio room. I made a mental note to buy some sunglasses later on, it was blinding as Hades out here!

"Great! Now arrange them on the table!" Anna beamed.

I did, carefully placing the shots so that they seemed to tell a story.

"Wow. Lovino, this is beautiful! That lighting with that tone of marble... Oh!"

"Yea," I mumbled, not used to people praising me, without comparing me to Feli. Or praising in general for that matter.

"Well, class is about over now," I glanced at the clock, it read 11:00.

I exited the studio, leaving my mentor to fawn over the pictures or whatever the Hell she was doing.

I groaned inwardly and sighed aloud. Now I had to find Feli. He told me he would be at the dining hall, but... He wasn't. Nor was he in his fucking studio! The Hell?

I finally called him and he told me he decided to got to the on campus café and to meet him there. So I went. And took a good fucking while getting there... because... because I just could dammit!


	2. Dine Excessively

**Author's Note:**

**Ciao bella!**

**How are all of mi amici doing? Your reviews are wonderful and they inspire me to continue writing this, possibly fairly long, story. I appreciate the nice comments so much! Also, this may or may not be loosely based off my life... like I said, relatable. Please continue to review and enjoy the story.**

**Without further ado, I present Chapter two of...**

**~When in Rome~**

* * *

Ch.2- When in Rome... Dine Excessively

"Abso-fucking-lutely not!" I screeched as soon as I spotted my (stupid) brother smiling and waving at me. Don't get me wrong. This would have been a completely normal Feliciano thing to do. Except for the fact that there was a seven-foot tall Berlin Freaking Wall sitting next to him! What was that Potato Bastard doing sitting next to my little brother? So I voiced my thoughts as loudly as freaking possible in the café.

"What the Hell, Feli?! What is Hasselhoff doing here?!" I whisper-yelled in the café.

"Ve~! But Lovi, I felt bad about earlier eating Luddy's breakfast. So I decided to invite him to lunch..." Feliciano desperately explained.

"Tch. Whatever. When did you two get so close? I was only gone for three hours!" I countered.

"Ve~...I was passing by the architecture studio on the way down and I just ran into him- not literally this time- and we started talking and ended up here! Don't be mad!" Feliciano cringed and squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the smack upside the head he was sure to get. But it never came and he hesitantly opened an eye to peer through his hands at me.

"A painter and an architect, huh. Aren't you two a perfect Leonardo da Vinci-esque couple." I looked at them.

"Ve~!" was the only fucking response I got.

"Whatever. I'm hungry, let's just order already!" I muttered. I sat across from them, just so I could glare at that damn potato who was clearly getting _too_ acquainted with my brother!

"Ve~ Aha! We already ordered for you Lovi! Ah! Here it comes now!" My ditzy brother chirped. Yes. He motherfucking chirped like a bird.

...

Don't get me started.

We ate in silence, which was fine by me! Oh yes! I reveled the freaking silence like a miser and his money!

God dammit! I shot a death glare at the plate of food that had just been set in front of me. There were fries on my plate, which were deep fried potatoes! Was the world out to get me today or what?! I hate potatoes! This must have somehow been the German's fault! If looks could kill... The bastard would've dropped dead right then and there.

Abruptly, I began complaining, like the manly macho man I am, because... um, I just could okay?!

"Potatoes? How dare they try to poison me with these German fries of Death!" I growled (yelled) out loud. It's hard to do both simultaneously I tell you!

"Ve~? But Lovi *munch* they are really *munch* very good *swallow*," Feli replied between bites of Death.

"For fuck's sake! Feli, don't eat it! Spit out those Death fries!" I yelled. He didn't comply.

I stared at him, waiting for him to double over in pain or spontaneously combust into flames or whatever weird shit those cursed potatoes were going to do to my poor, innocent brother. But nothing seemed to be happening. He still had that dopey grin on his face and I could hear soft 'Ve~'s as he ate. Wow. My brother must have a stomach of fucking steel!

"Enjoy lunch with, _Luddy_!" I rolled my eyes, sarcasm dripping off my voice. But I kept it low. We were still in a café and we were getting strange looks from the passerby's. As if they had never seen a ticked Italian before, yelling at a German Potato... Oh, they probably hadn't. Whatever. Now they know not to mess with Lovino Fucking Badass Vargas! Heh. They look like Feliciano when you try to explain Calculus... Or anything that requires brain power and an IQ over 20. Wait- that's everything.

"That does it. I'll be at the Rec. Center if you need me," I stated as I got up, placing money for my food on the table. I wasn't going to make my brother pay. Or the German. I don't want to owe them anything.

"Ve~! That's all the way across campus!" Feli protested, swallowing a mouthful of Death.

"Yea. So don't need me," I shrugged and left.

I made my way through the gardens, almost having a heart attack when Heracles rose from the dead-I mean bench, sneaky bastard- towards the (huge) Rec. Center, trying to find something to do and occupy my mind.

* * *

The building was well equipped with a shit ton of activities to keep students entertained. A rock wall, indoor skydiving (no, I'm not exaggerating), different sports facilities, even some decent restaurant-esque eateries.

I trudged along slowly, hearing laughter and seeing smiles. Anyone who thought artists were all reclusive, antisocial people were dead wrong. This place was as lively as any other place filled with young adolescents. I walked to a relaxing sitting area where there was a nice view of the front courtyard. I plopped down, about as graceful as a beaches whale, and let my mind wander. I was lost in thought thinking of how great tomatoes are when my life was flipped upside down. Cliché as it sounds.

"Kesese! What do we have here, Franny?" an obnoxiously loud voice laughed behind me.

"Gilbert, _mon ami,_ it seems like a freshman. And not a very big one. Ohonhon!" a subtle French accented voice replied to the loudmouth.

Slowly I turned around to face two guys, probably a year or two older than myself, staring at me.

The first voice, the obnoxious one, belonged to a man with pale, silver hair and asymmetrical bangs. His bright red eyes were filled with mirth and matched his wide as fuck smirk plastered on his face.

The man next to him had wavy, blonde, shoulder length hair tied back with a red ribbon. His cerulean eyes darted up and down my body (the Hell?) hungrily and he had a perverted smile on his face.

"Back off Frenchie! You too freaking albino creeper!" I shouted at the two taller men. They just looked at me and laughed their annoying as Hell laughs!

"I'm serious! What do you want?!" I growled, my signature scowl on my face.

"Looks like we have a fiery _petite Italien, oui!_" Francis, apparently, spoke to the albino, Gilbert.

"We're just here, as students, to enjoy the Rec. Center," the obnoxious bastard told me.

"Fuck off!" I swore and flipped them both off for good measure. That'll teach those jerks to mess with Lovino Vargas! They'd best run before I sick the _mafia_ on them!

"Cocky brat,"Gilbert observed. Giving me the once over. He then looked past me and yelled, loud as fuck of course,"Tonio! Get over here! We got fresh meat," he glanced menacingly at me. I involuntary shuddered.

What?!

...

'Fresh meat'?! That's fifty shades of freaky!

"_Mi amigos!_ We have a new artist it seems!" a Spanish accented voice called from behind me.

Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind and pulled into a warm embrace of a hug. My lungs were filled with strong spices, mint, and something else... it was delicious... damn. That came out wrong. I was hungry okay?! It made me delirious!

"Let me the fuck go!" I struggled against my attacker. All of the sudden I was spun around to face two huge green eyes, scintillating bright and beautif-annoying. The man seemed the same age as the two asses standing behind me, with tan skin and a huge, friendly grin on his face. It was eating his face it was so big!

"_Hola!_ I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo! And these are my two best _amigos_, Gilbert Beilschmidt and Francis Bonnefoy!" The Spaniard grinned, smile wide as the Mediterranean, at me. What the Hell is up with these long ass names?

"Are you related to that Potato Ludwig?!" I looked at the albino. _Please say no. Please say no._

"My little brother? Kesese!" Gilbert grinned cheekily. _Damn_.

"God. There are two?" I groaned out loud.

"Yea. Sorry to disappoint. But I'm way more _Awesome_ than Luddy!" Gilbert announced. Grinning almost as wide as his world sized ego. Almost.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Antonio asked innocuously.

What. The. Fuck.

I'm Lovino Macho Vargas. How dare he call me 'sweetie'! So I did what any reasonable person would have done in my predicament. I punched him. Hard. In the stomach.

...

What?! I was defending my manhood!

"Oof!" Antonio gasped slightly as the wind was knocked out of his motherfucking lungs. Serves the bastard right!

Francis hid a grin and Gilbert just laughed at his friend's pain.

"Lovino Vargas," I hissed and walked away.

"Wa-wait! Lovi~!" Antonio recovered and grabbed my hand. I flinched away like his touch burned.

"Don't call me that bastard!" I flushed turning red... from anger! Not because I was blushing from the way his Spanish accent rolled my name. Fuck no! It was just hot as Hell in the Rec. Center! Damn. I need to get better excuses... I mean explain my reasons better!

"Lovi~! What should I call you then..." Antonio paused, giving it thought," Oh! How about _mi tomate_!" He beamed a huge grin at me," Let's be friends okay?"

"Not even if Hell itself froze over!" I glared at him. He shrunk back a bit.

"Why not?" He asked at though he _hadn't_ just assaulted me two minutes ago.

"Because you assault people you don't know and give them weird pet names and have creeper friends," I said, indicating Antonio's friends watching the whole scene unfold.

"That's not fair! I can't help it that my friends are strange!" the Spaniard whined.

"Hey! I'm _Awesome_, not weird," Potato Number Two shot back.

"_Oui! _How uncouth of you Lovino! And to your only friends," Francis feigned hurt. Dramatically clutching his heart. I shot him a skeptical look.

"How do you know how many friends I have?" I glared.

"Kesese! With your personality, I doubt you even know how to make friends!" The albino taunted.

"You're all a bunch of fucktards!" I huffed.

"Come on! I'll buy you lunch Lovi~!" Antonio smiled sweet enough to rot your teeth.

"Hell no! Why would I accept an offer from such a-" my rant was cut off by a monstrous growl. The growling of my damn stomach!

Crap. I forgot I had left my (stupid) brother and that potato before I got to actually eat...

"Fine jerk! But I'm going to order whatever I want. and you _have_ to pay, got it?" I scowled at the grinning Spaniard.

...

What?! It was a free meal! And I was about to swoon-I mean kill someone- from hunger, okay? Sheesh.

"Sure thing Lovi~!" The (bastard) Antonio said, leading me away from his friends (assholes).

"See ya Toni!" The loud mouth albino shouted, even though we were still right next to him! Seriously, the guy only has one volume, 'obnoxiously loud as fuck'.

"_Oui! Auevoir!_" the French bastard blew me a kiss, to which I politely flipped him the bird. Hey, it was polite. I made certain not _too_ many people were watching.

"_Adios!_" The tomato bastard waved bye to his friends.

I glared up at the Spaniard,"You know, you'll see each other again. Stop with the 'if we meet again- tear, tear' soap opera drama. I just want to eat already!" I growled. I'm a bastard when I'm hungry.

...

Oh shut it!

_Who are you fooling Lovino? You have always been a cynical bastard. _I thought to myself.

* * *

We walked for what seemed like an eternity (when you're famished) until I ran into the bastard who abruptly stopped in front of me.

"This bistro is nice Lovi~! The food is delicious and they have really good _gelato_!" Antonio flashed me another fucking million watt smile. Damn bastard could blind people permanently.

"Yea. Sure. Fan-fucking-tastic," I muttered, already walking through the door. I was so famished I was contemplating eating a _potato_! A potato!

The bistro had a very café-esque feel to it as we entered. Soft coffee-house music played in the background.

There was a mouth watering aroma of pasta and tomato sauce, and me, being Italian, was ready to jump the kitchen staff for food, but we live in a civil society where that shit was frowned upon greatly. Not that I cared because I was Lovino Badass Vargas who didn't follow any rules. Ain't nobody got time for that!

...

But I digress.

I walked- no sexily _strutted_- right up to the counter and said, in a boisterous, I own you bitches voice,"I'll have one of everything on the menu... Oh, actually, give me the deserts to go," turning to the stunned, and speechless (for once) Spaniard I asked in a most innocuous tone,"are you getting anything?" I smirked.

"L-Lovi~! That's mean..." he whined,"please, you're jokin-"

"What?" I cut him off. Feigning innocence I asked,"But Tonio, didn't you say I could have anything I wanted?" I looked up at him and smirked evilly.

"Lovi~! I know what I said, but I don't think I could afford every item on the menu," he gestured over to said menu,"So I'm afraid you can't order everything..." He trailed off sadly. The bastard looked like he was about to cry over the fact that he couldn't get me what I wanted. He really wanted me to be happy I guess. Weirdo.

"Hey bastard, it's okay. Really. I don't need all that food. _Scusami signora?_ I'll just have the pasta salad with lemonade," I patted the mourning Spanish man lightly, I mean, I don't really comfort people, aside from Feliciano, that is.

Aforementioned Spaniard looked at me with bright emerald eyes,"_Gracias_ Lovi~ but I will make it up to you!" He said, sounding full of determination. At least the bloke was grinning his dorky grin again. Wow. And I thought Feliciano had mood swings. This guy would give him a run for his money!

"_Perdón siñorita!_ I'll have a club sandwich, with extra tomatoes and iced tea, the peach kind... And lemon gelato!" He smiled at the young female taking our order.

She looked at us like we had three heads, which looking back at the whole episode we had, was fair enough. However, we were guys (pretty astute observation, Lovino). Yeah, yeah, fuck you. Anyway, we were guys. Attractive guys with exotic accents (Antonio) and a killer sense of style (me, Lovino _Alla Moda _Vargas) so she let it pass, without much of a thought.

We sat at a table for two by the window with a nice view of the gardens. I saw some students tending to the plants and doing all kinds of garden type things. Probably the horticulture students.

Humming quietly, Antonio asked,"So Lovi~! You're a student here?" I gave him a no shit Sherlock look by raising my eyebrows high.

"Anyway, what are you here for?" The idiot continued cheerfully.

"I was abducted, turned into a robot by countless expiramentations, and brought here to conduct research on humans, and exploit their weaknesses to the almighty Space Dieties," I deadpanned.

Antonio looked genuinely shocked," You're from _outerspace_?! There _is_ life somewhere else in the universe!" I stared at him. What a moron.

He continued," Lovino Vargas, I always knew you were... _out of this world_," I glanced at him and he was trying not to laugh (the fuck?).

"I thought you fell for it, bastard!" I gave him an incredulous look.

"Nope," he looked proud,"I'm just a really good actor. Thanks to Francy Pants!" I assumed that to be Frenchie's nickname.

"So, the Wine Bastard is into acting, now?" I asked out of *gasp* curiosity.

"Yep. Francis is in Theatre and Gil is in Video/Film Productions."

"My younger brother, Feliciano, persuaded me to apply," I stated quietly,"He, although dumb as a brick, is a genius painter."

"Oh? And what do you plan to major in, Mr. Vargas?" Antonio put on interviewer persona.

"Art. Dumbass," keeping it general.

"Specifically?" he pressed.

"Photography," I answered.

"Hmmm. Very nice," he mused.

"What about you?" I looked at him quizzically.

"Me? I'll show you later, Lovi~!" the bastard grinned. We then fell into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, the girl came back with two plates of food expertly balanced in one hand with our drinks in the other. The food looked way better than usual, probably since I was hungry enough to eat a whole fridge. Yes. The fridge. With magnets and all the other useless junk people loved to put on their fridges.

...

Don't even.

"Isn't it tasty Lovi~?" Darn. I was enjoying the silence and, of course, a dumb Spaniard had to ruin it!

"Yea. Great," I replied lazily. Playing it cool, even though I wanted to eat the entire plate in one bite. Yup. I was that starved.

After we'd finished eating, the bastard gave me a huge bear hug and offered to walk me back to my dorm, which earned him a well deserved, and way overdue (if you ask me) smack upside the head.

"As if!" I glared before storming off, my scowl back in place. However I still had manners.

"_G-grazie_!" I turned to the Spaniard to thank him. Then scurried, so fast I'd put Olympic track stars to shame, to my dorm, already feeling my face getting hot. You know, since I never thank anyone... Not because it was Antoni- the stupid Spaniard!

"Fusoso! _Muy lindo!_" Antoni- I mean the tomato bastard chuckled as I stomped off.

"Let's hang out a lot Lovi~! _Adios_!" He called after me.

It was only three in the afternoon, but I was exhausted. All thanks to (stupid) Antonio.

...

I'm not in denial! I'll call him Antonio... B-but only because tomato bastard is really long to say!

Shut it!

I flopped down on my bed and decided a nap sounded really good right about now. I stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity before drifting off. But before I knew it, sleep consumed me.


	3. Take Notes

**Author's Note:**

**Ciao bella!**

**I hope this fine piece of literature is satisfying to read. Please tell me if you're enjoying the story so far! It'll make me smile to know I'm doing something right. So yes, the epic tale of Lovino and Antonio shall now continue. **

**Without further ado, I present Chapter three of...**

**~When in Rome~**

* * *

Ch.3- When in Rome... Take Notes

To say I woke up pissed was the fucking understatement of the _year_. Livid. Yep, that sounds more accurate. I was having a great dream about rolling down a hill (like the movies) full of fresh, ripe, succulent, juicy tomat- okay off topic. Anyway, I was picking them and right when I was about to bite into the red fruit... My (annoying) brother had to ruin it! And poof! Just like that, my tomatoes were gone. Alas, it was not meant to be. I glanced at the clock, it read eight at night. Damn. I was out for a long freaking while.

My blissfully oblivious brother however, continued chatting. Loudly. Whilst giving someone, I hope it's not who I fucking think it is, a tour of our room.

"Ve~! And here is _fratello's_ bed. But shhh! He's sleeping. He's so _carino! Sí?_" My brother's high-pitched (and sexually questionable) voice squealed.

At this point, it was too much. I shot up angrily, giving Feli, and the Berlin Wall, of fucking course it was him, the death glare. My brother didn't notice and the German bastard chose to ignore me and focus his attention on the clothes scattered on the floor. That OCD little-

"Ve~! How was your nap _fratello_?" Feli asked, clueless as ever.

"Well shit, Feli, how kind of you to ask. I was having a terrific dream, borderline perfect in fact," I replied.

"Ve~! How wonderfu-" I cut him off.

"Uh, uh, uh!" I wagged my index finger back and forth,"I didn't finish. It was going great, until...," It was at this point I motioned him closer.

Of course the moron complied,"YOU!" At that moment, I pounced off my bed, like a cat and a mous- no a tiger an antelope... Wait! I mean a tiger and... Whatever tigers eat. Not that I care! What do tigers eat anywa- off topic!

"You ruined my lovely tomato filled dream just to tour that damn potato bastard around our room!" I said as I tackled him unto his own bed.

"Ve~! _Mi dispiace, fratello!_" Feliciano cried, attempting to wriggle free of my grasp. He managed to escape from my clutches and ran behind the Berlin Wall.

"Ludwig! Ludwig! Please help me! Save me! _Fratello_ is angry!" My (soon to be dead) brother squealed.

"_Mein Gott!_" The Potato Bastard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a freaking headache.

"Out of the way Hasselhoff!" I growled, still eying my shaking brother.

"Could you two please calm dow-" he started.

"No! Don't tell me what to do in my own room Potato Bastard!" I cut him off mid sentence. Did he not see the seriousness off the matter? _Tomatoes_! Need I say more?

Of course he wouldn't get it! If it were about *shudder* fucking potatoes, he'd probably be as angry, if not more, than me dammit!

"Ve~! He's right Lovi! We could be disturbing the other people..." Feli stated in a small voice. Trying to calm me down, to no avail.

"Disturb... _Disturb?!_ You disturbed me. Who cares about the other occupants when you-" my rant was interrupted by a knocking on the door. Accompanied by a certain loud mouthed, obnoxious bastard yelling. Otherwise known as Potato Bastard Two.

"Hey, West? I got your text. I just thought I'd swing by and... *insert annoying ass cackle here* check up on things," the albino bastard caterwauled through the door. That damn potato. Check up? I doubt it. More like he knew I'd be here and wanted an excuse to annoy the Hell out of me!

"Ve~ Luddy? Is that for you?" Feliciano asked doe eyed.

"_Ja_. It's my older _bruder_, Gilbert," Muscles explained.

"Ve~! Okay! I'll get it," Feli pranced to the door and swung it open graciously.

"Sweet fuck Feli! Don't answer to strangers!" I chastised.

"_Buonasera!_" He greeted the albino freak.

"_Ciao_," I said, scowling.

"The _Awesome Me_ has arrived, bitches!" Pale Potato Boy anounced, as he pushed my brother and allowed himself entrance into mine (and Feli's) room. A pillow in the corner caught my eye. I wondered if the albino bastard would like being asphyxiated...

"_Bruder_ please," Potato Bastard One said.

"What, West? I thought you'd love to see your big brother? Kesese!" Lord kill me now,"and I wanted to visit that scowling _hündin_, what was it? Domino... Lobino?" That's it. I'm going to kill him, I don't care if he's my brother's (unfortunately) friend's 'bruder'. God. Just the thought makes me nauseous.

...

Please excuse me while I throw up my lovely lunch from this afternoon...

Thank you. I feel much better.

"It's Lovino!" I spat at the (dense) Potato Bastard Two.

"Yea, yea baby. I got you," Potato Two (asshole) snickered. I shot him a glare that would make grown men cry. That motherfucker, how dare he call me 'baby'! And just to let you know, he doesn't 'got me'!

"Fuck you German bastard!" I yelled.

"You wish you could tap this!" He laughed (another wave of nausea hit me),"and F to the Y to the I, I'm _Prussian_," he looked serious. Holy shit. Where's a camera when you need it. Was that even possible?!

What. The. Fuck.

Mind blown.

"_Prussian_? What the Hell?" I turned the Berlin Wall, who just shook his head at the whole thing.

"_Bruder_. We are leaving," 'West' sighed, looking agitated and constipated all at once.

"But West!" The bastard whined. I flipped him off. Wow. This was getting to be a regular thing between me and just about everyone I met today. They piss me off, I flip them off... But I digress.

"_Nein._" The Wall said, dragging the Freaky Albino Prussian Not Awesome Potato Basta- Whoa! Let me catch my freaking breath, that's a long ass name- Bastard out the door.

And with that, there were two less Potato Bastards in my room. Which was fine by me. Now I see who wears the pants in that relationship.

"Ve~! What was that all about?" My brother broke the silence that ensued the Stoic German/Obnoxious Prussian episode.

I slumped back on my bed, too out of it to explain. After all, it'd be like explaining quantum physics to _Antonio!_

...

Wait! Why the fuck did I just think about him?!

"_Buonanotte, fratello..._" I mumbled and went back asleep. Silently praying the delicious tomato fields from Heaven awaited me.

* * *

The next morning, was Hell. But let's face it. Hell was basically my life story as Lovino Fucking Nothing Goes My Way Vargas! I woke up, my eyes almost blinded by the sun (again), tripped over the same fucking box and face planted (I really need to move that!), and let's not forget I had the lovely honor of dragging my brother's drowsy ass out of bed! I was late (again) because Heaven freaking forbid something actually work out in my favor!

I sat through a boring as fuck lecture in my photography class about how to properly develop negatives. As the students were going into the dark room to watch a demonstration, I just sat by the window, since I already knew how to, more or less.

Through the 'looking glass', aka the window (I want to sound poetic okay?!), I could see almost the entirety of the back courtyard, even Heracles _legendary_ fountain. I saw those same literature students scribbling away in their notebooks... Hmmm. I could use a break, why not try talking to them? I stretched and slipped out of the classroom. I mean they wouldn't notice me missing in a room that dark. Probably...

I strolled casually towards a couple students sitting under an apple tree.

"_Ciao_," I greeted nonchalantly.

"Hello," a boy with pale blonde silver hair and bangs that covered his forehead looked up at me with vivid amethyst eyes,"I'm Emil Steilsson, by the way." He had an Icelandic accent.

The girl next to him had short pale blonde hair with an admittedly _carino_ gold cross hair clip pinning her bangs back. Dull indigo eyes glanced up at me, half lidded. She looked Norwegian.

"_Ciao bella! _I'm Lovino Vargas," I smiled genially at the girl.

...

Shut it! I may be an angry bastard, but I'm still _Italian_. So naturally I flirt with the ladies.

"You guys studying Literature?" I asked.

"Yes." The girl deadpanned.

That's nice. So what are you writing about in that note boo-" I started.

"Lovi~! Is that you? It is!" Was all I heard before I was (literally) swept off my feet.

"Put me down motherfucker!" I elbowed my attacker in the guts.

"Oof! Not... Cute!" The Spaniard said between wheezes.

"I wasn't trying to be fucking 'cute'," I glared straight into his dazzling green eyes. Shit! What I meant was dull, grassy green- no. Dammit! They were emerald green and nice, but like Hell I'd tell the bastard that. Like fucking Hell.

"Aww! Too bad. _Eres tan lindo!_" Antonio started speaking freaking _gibberish_. I don't have a fucking clue what the heck he was saying. And I don't fucking care!

Okay, maybe I care a _little..._

But the amount of fucks I give are so miniscule they're basically non existent, so there! Would you like some fries with that? Of course you wouldn't, fries are _potatoes._

"_Vaffanculo! Cazzo! _You_ stronzo!_" I slipped into my native tongue and let out a string of profanities. Since I'm Lovino IDGAF Vargas.

"Ahem." The two literature students looked at us,"Do you need a moment?"

There was a simultaneous "Not with him!" and "_Sí!_" I leave it to you to guess who said what.

"That's no fun, Lovi~!" The Spaniard whined. "Let's hang out today!" He added.

"Okay, bastard. I'll give you my answer in fucking Spanish (gibberish) since you seem so attached to the language," I looked at him. He looked back, eyes hopeful and expectant.

*insert dramatic fucking pause*

"No."

Yeah. I'm a bastard and proud.

...

That would make a nice tee-shirt phrase!

...

Yea, yea, off topic, but I have the attention span of a fucking goldfish. Deal with it!

"Please! Please, please, please!" He begged. On his knees. Clasping his hands together. With puppy dog eyes. Shit.

"F-fine tomato bastard!" I said in a harsh tone. Those eyes made me fucking melt. What the Hell is wrong with me?! I'm supposed to be impervious to that kind of thing! I'm getting soft. Well shit. This can't be good...

"Great! Let's go!" Antonio dragged me away.

"_Adios!_" He looked at the seemingly forgotten Scandinavian students.

"_Ciao!_" I winked at the girl, causing Antonio to raise an eyebrow.

The Norwegian sighed, adjusting the cross clip that had come loose, and signed the story at the bottom like a professional writer. _Lukas Bondevik_ was written in immaculate cursive.

* * *

Once we were out of sight, the bastard spoke up,"So, you are capable of frivolous activity like flirting?"

"_Bitch please_. I'm Italian. We invented flirting," I answered. What? No point in denying that I am a _lady-killer_! Not like homicide, more like I make the ladies get hot and bothered from a smoking hot Italian overload!

...

Don't say anything.

I stopped walking cleared my throat nervously,"Hey, bastard. Um... now don't get me wrong. I don't care about you, but... I thought, you know, since we are classmates... And both artists. That... Maybe, we should get to know each other better... Or something," I glanced up. The clueless Spaniard was giving me a strange look. Shit. I screwed up dammit.

"Never mind... Just forget I said anything. It was stupid..." I muttered.

"What? My Lovi~? Stupid? Never! I would love to get to know you!" Antonio said, earnestly.

"Okay then. Why don't you tell me what got you accepted into ISA anyway. Also, how did that idiotic, self-proclaimed _Prussian King of Awesome _and Frog Legs get in?" I questioned.

"Well, if you mean Gil and Franny..." He started to ask.

"I do." I pressed.

"When we were in high school-"

"So fucking long ago," I cut in.

"All three of us were really into art, Francis was the star at school plays, Gil was involved at the studio where the school filmed daily announcements, and you could always find me on the roof." The Spaniards eyes looked distant as he remembered his younger years.

"What the Hell does the _roof_ have to do with art?" I asked.

"Why everything Lovi~!" The bastard is TSTL (too stupid to live). What an airhead, he's putting Feli to shame!

"Anyway, it wasn't _just_ the roof. It was also the stairs in front of the school, the hallways, the Performing Arts Center, my house... Heck, even the streets! Just wherever I went, my passion of art followed," he continued.

"So when graduation came around, it seemed natural to apply to such a well-known Arts school, you know? Aim for the stars and all that jazz. Ahaha!" the bastard concluded his little monologue and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh," Damn. My vast as fuck vocabulary was acting up again. After that spiel, all I could say was 'Oh'. Great. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

"Why don't you just tell me what your _art_ is?" I sighed, exasperated.

"That's no fun! I want to _show_ you," He laughed.

"Whatever," I muttered, a small, oh so small, smile escaped my lips. Secretive bastard.

"So Lovi~! Tell me more about your _familia!_" Antonio asked.

"Okay. Feli, my younger brother, is perfect. He's artistic, charismatic, good-looking, well he should be, he is _Italian_, anyway he's an all around great guy (just like you- fuck! Did I say that out loud?! No? Good. Not that it's okay to _think_ that either!), though a bit slow (Wow. Now it's exactly like Antonio!). And I'm, for lack of a better word, a PMSy bitch." Antonio looked like he was about to object, but I cut him off.

"I'm not perfect. I'm clumsy as Hell and I mess up a lot. I can't convey my feelings well (so I act pissed) and I'm definitely not as great an artist as him, at least, that's the rumor going around... or what everyone tells me," I rambled,"But that's besides the point! I'm way more macho and I don't act like a girl. Plus, my IQ is over 20 and I have enough brain cells to actually put a complete thought together," I paused to catch my breath. Holy crap on a cracker!

_Fuck._ Fuck fuckity fuck-fuck!

_Why_ did I just tell all this to a damn tomato bastard! Lovino Vargas you are truly an idiot. Seriously, I just discovered a whole new frontier of stupid. I feel so much like my effeminate, useless as dirt-Wait! Dirt has a purpose- brother it _hurts! _

"Lovi~, you are..." Antonio sounded serious.

I stared at him, waiting for the final blow to be dealt. Was he going to say _waste of time? Unlovable? _I've heard it all before.

"... a complete idiot."

Except for that.

WHAAAAAA?

Did the Spanish _idiot_ just call _me _an idiot?!

"You are perfect and endearing, in your own way. I'll for sure prove it to you!" he sounds determined as fuck, of course.

"How?" I don't care if I sound like a three year old. My questions deserve answers, damn it.

"By getting you to loosen up and have fun, my uptight little darling," he grinned cheekily, pulling me into a warm embrace. Just to be clear, that was _not_ a blush creeping into my face, got it? It was just really hot and probably a sun burn or something! Damn the sun!

Seriously. I could've gone a whole lifetime without hearing the last part of his sentence!

"Who the fuck are you calling uptight? I am not uptight!" I hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Antonio raised an eyebrow,"Really Lovi~? My dear, you were practically in hysterics when I hugged you. Mumbling about germs and disease. And you clearly don't approve anyone German, though they can't help their ethnicity."

He caught me. Not that I'd admit he was right... And _damn_. When did he get so smart? Using diction like _ethnicity_ without tripping over his words like the moron I _know _he is. I guess he didn't get in the school _just_ by his chivalry and looks... at least not _completely. _It was definitely part of it though! And don't think that _I_ think he's gentlemanly, because I don't!

"Whatever bastard. Can we get going now? Wait. Where are we headed to anyway?"

"Oh! To the Theatre to visit Franny-"

What. The. Fuuuuuuccccccc-

"What? We're going to Frenchie's _lair_?! Since when?" I shrieked.

"Since we started walking, silly Lovi~!"Antonio grinned so wide I swear he should have been in pain.

"That was rhetorical! No way am I setting foot in that Hell hole!" I argued. Really though I was contradicting myself as I walked closer, each step being the walk of death to my utter demise. Antonio, the bastard, was quick (shocker) to point that out.

"Lovi~! it's only Francis, I'm sure you'll be safe," he added, for my assurance. _Only_ Francis? What. The. Hell. Why would he say that to _comfort_ me?! More like use that to scare the shit out of me.

Well suck's balls for him, as I am in no freaking way feeling any safer as we neared the pulchritudinous (Hold the phone! Eloquent diction from Lovino Walking Dictionary Vargas? What is this fuckery?) architectural wonder.


	4. Put on a Show

**Author's Note:**

**Ciao bella!**

**It's Summer! More sun, more fun, and more time(maybe) to update! Anyway, I currently have a couple new stories in the works, which is always exciting. I'll probably try to write a couple chapters ahead before I post those, so I'm not rushing to create three, new chapters every so often. But enough about me! I know what you are really here for!**

**Without further ado, may I proudly present Chapter four of...**

**~When in Rome~**

* * *

Ch.4- When in Rome... Put on a Show

The Theatre was radiating beauty. The structure was sculpted white marble and definitely had a Greecian-Roman Mediterranean influence. Two, tall pure white marble pillars lined the entryway of the building and the lobby was airy upon entering with long windows in the foyer and a sitting room area called a 'Parlor'. Gold lacing was woven intricately around the walls and chandelier. Yes. A huge crystal and gold chandelier hung from the ceiling. Surrounding said light source was a circular skylight and the rest of the ceiling was painted by students hand, Venetian style. There was even a grand staircase that split into two leading up to the seating above.

"Follow me," Antonio (bastard) grabbed my awestruck hand and led me towards the entrance to the auditorium.

There were hundreds of chairs, as the performances here were popular (as in no open seats, sold out, people on standby), and famous, through out not just Rome, but all of Italy. Reaching as far south as Naples and as far north as, on extreme occasions, Milan. Yes. Motherfucking _Milan_, which is over 300 miles away. It was rare, but hey, it happened! This is a world-renowned Arts school, after all. People from freaking Spain (Antonio's relatives? Probably, knowing him) came here for a show.

I walked over to the stage, which was designed to be reminiscent of the Globe Theatre, and climbed on, wanting to be the Italian badass I was. I strode to the middle, and once I made it centre stage I decided to become an actor.

With an air of authority, I recited a few lines from a play I'd seen here a while back when I was still in high school_,"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven stages_," I ended suavely with a delicate bow and smirked. Shakespeare bitches.

I received a round of applause from the 'audience' of one.

"I didn't know you were a fan of Shakespeare?" Antonio said, amazed at my talent in theatre, although he should be!

"Yeah. The two of us go way back," I stated sarcastically.

"_Bravo!"_ A voice sounded from behind. The language was Italian, but not so much the accent. Shit.

"Antonio, _mon cheri!_ What a _magnifique_ _acteur_ you have there! The theatre could use some extra _actuers_ to give the audience some new, fresh, young, _delicious_ faces," the voice continued, purring the last line as he eyed me.

I felt my blood run cold. Scratch that. It turned to ice. Yup. Fucking _ice_. No longer even flowing through my veins. A red, hot Italian Popsicle... Yea, yea, oxymoron.

The French Fucker.

He had arrived. Over the top, flamboyant personality and all.

...

Whoop-dee-freaking-doo.

"Tonio! This child-" Frog Legs started.

"I'm not a child!" I cut in. How dare he!

"-is so _mignon_," he continued, not missing a beat.

_"Sí! Muy lindo_," Antonio agreed, nodding his head vigorously.

"Stop speaking foreign, assholes!" I groaned.

"What brings you to my theatre, my homage, my kingdo-" the blonde rambled, clasping my hands in his. I yanked away, quick as lightning.

"Can it, Frenchie! Look, I don't know, ask Antonio! He dragged me here against my will. It's not like I had asked him to take me to your _lair_!" I gestured to the Spaniard currently distracted by a... um, I don't even know...

"Look Lovi~! A shiny thing!" Antonio announced clueless as ever.

Yes. A _shiny_ thing. He was distracted by a motherfucking shiny thing! Why do I even bother?

_Because you care._

...

Hold the phone! What the heck?! Who just said that?

No one?

Great. I'm hearing voices. Frick my life. Now I'm crazy, too?!

_You've always been a little off, Lovi~!_

Shit. That last one... Now Tonio is in my head… hopefully he doesn't see anything too embarrassing up there.

"Antonio! What are we doing here? Are you just here to visit your friend?" I asked, slightly annoyed that I had to go with him.

"Sit here. I just need to discuss something with Francis and we'll be going, okay?" Antonio directed me, like a child, to a seat. I scowled at the two, but complied.

"What the fuck ever," I huffed.

Twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, _not_ that I was counting or anything, the pair returned. And after a heartfelt goodbye- definitely not on my part- we left.

Francis giggled," What a-"

* * *

"...Complete waste of time!" I concluded my rant. The spacey Spaniard just smiled. The bastard. He hadn't heard a word I said.

"You're stupid," I deadpanned.

"Of course, Lovi~!" He replied, still not listening.

I hit him,"Pay attention! I fucking called you stupid. Don't agree with me!" I sighed.

"Oh, sorry, Lovi~! I was just thinking about something..." And then _I_ tuned out.

_Shut. The. Front. Door._

_Antonio and thinking? Thinking requires brain power! Which the idiot clearly lacked! Today is full of surprises. Next thing you know Frenchie is going to declare he's a virgin! Yea, it's that bad_.

"Hey, moron!" I cut off he babbling Spaniard's incessant rambling. Shit. I didn't even know what to say!

"Yes, Lovi~?" His big, green eyes staring into my soul. I hesitated and swallowed loudly.

"I-I'm hungry already dammit!" I stated to buy myself time. The bastard would probably start chatting about all the different foods on- and off- campus.

I heard a snicker," What the Hell is so funny, asshole?" I glared.

"Silly, Lovi~! You weren't listening. I said we were going to dine off-campus today, since its Friday," Antonio giggled like a fucking gir- no! Like a _Feliciano_!

"I was listening! I was just making sure you were hungry, too!" I quickly explained.

"Aww! Worried about me?" He smiled.

"As if. That's the last time I try fucking being nice to you," I huffed, my face growing hot.

"That's so sweet of you!" He praised.

"Shut it," I began to stomp away.

"Wait! You should eat... Lovi~! Honestly, I don't think you've eaten all day," Antonio called.

I turned to glared the crap out of the bastard, however my traitor body had other plans. My freaking stomach decided just then to make itself announced. Growling like a jungle cat, it screamed 'feed me!'

"Awww!" Tonio chided.

"F-fine! I'm famished, okay?! Let's go," I hid my burning red face.

Damn. It really hurts when you slam your head in a wall.

Okay, it's not too far, so we could walk..." he started," or I could drive, I suppose?" He added when he saw me staring at him.

"No. Walk." I quickly responded. Close spaces with Antonio are not a good idea until I get a grip on myself.

"Okay!" Antonio led the way like we were playing Follow the Stupid Fucking Leader or something!

"You know I'm Italian-" I began.

"What?! Since when? Why didn't you tell me!" Antonio spun around suddenly to face me.

The bastard put on a shocked expression," We're friends, how could you keep this from me?"

I giggled- I mean, well, in a macho, Lovino Vargas sort of way... anyway!- I hit him lightly on the shoulder," Yes. Born and raised in Rome, so this place better be good. I have high expectations, not that Italian food could ever be bad," I concluded.

"Got it!" he exclaimed. His smile was so damn chipper it fucking hurt to look at! Seriously!

* * *

_La Bella Italiana, _a petite café famous for their pasta and _gelato, _was the location Antonio chose to dine at. We sat out on the veranda, overlooking the main plaza. Personally, I had never eaten here, but _God_ I wish I had sooner. The pasta was cooked _al dente _and the_ Bolognese _was_ perfetto! _The _gelato_ just melted in my mouth and I had each and every flavor, no shame. Lemon, pear, and raspberry were some of the best I'd ever had, and I expressed this aloud.

"The _gelato_ is creamy, but not too rich. The tartness of the lemon compliments the sweetness of the raspberry, but not to a point where it's too over powering. And the pear is so-" I gushed.

"Wow, Lovi~! I didn't know you were such a _gelato connoisseur! _This is really good then? I hoped it would be!" Antonio cut of my rambling.

I cleared my throat, " Uh, yeah. I guess so." He just laughed at my poorly done gruffness.

I looked around, this place really was popular. There were some students I knew here; like Heracles sleeping at a table, my photography mentor, Anna, even that snobby British guy Arthur, who was in our _culinary department _(and couldn't cook to save his life!) and his obnoxious friend, Alfred (who didn't even _go_ to the school!). I had the _un_fortunate experience to meet those two while I was doing laundry the other day. Let me tell you, I was washing detergent out of my hair for _hours! _To be blunt, I didn't care for the British Bastard much.

"A lot of students come here," I mused aloud, half talking to myself.

"Yup! You see, Lovi~, everyone who knows and has some sense of taste for _quality _food eats here," Tonio smiled, then continued," Even _Arthur Kirkland_. Though knowing him, he's probably trying to figure out why his food is so _crappy_ in comparison," Antonio's usually sweet demeanor held a bit of malice at the mention of said culinary fail.

_If someone actually turned Antonio's chipper disposition sour, then you know the bastard, Arthur that is, did something really bad, _I thought.

" So tell me," I tried, yes, Lovino IDGAF Vargas actually attempted to _try_, to lighten the slowly darkening atmosphere, curtesy of moody Antonio," Are his eyebrows _natural_? Or did he get a really shitty waxing job, in which instead of hair remover they added mother fucking hair growth?" I raised one of my, very fine, if I do say so myself, eyebrows.

"Natural. _I think_," Antonio chuckled and tousled my hair.

I just cursed Italian profanities at him and swatted his hand away, for good measure.

Getting up to leave, Antonio looked me in the eye," If you want to know, ask his roommate, I'm sure he'd know," then the bastard, Antonio this time, left. Well, he was waiting for me outside, but _still!_

* * *

Now, I've learned a lot over the past month, including who was rooming with who. I was rooming with my (stupid) brother, Feliciano Veneziano Vargas. The Potato Brothers, composed of Gilbert and his younger brother, Ludwig, were _roomies, _as my _fratello _would say. Antonio and Francis were roommates, figures. As were the two Scandinavian literature students I'd met. Get this, the blonde Norwegian _bella_, is a _bello_! Which means _her_ (however many times it was denied) Danish boyfriend, is actually, _his _Danish boyfriend.

Oops.

My bad...

No wonder I was given the cold shoulder when we first met...

...

Anyway, I also learned who Arthur's roommate was, a guy I just so happen to be well acquainted, and friends (sort of), with. That's right ladies and gentlemen, _Heracles Karpusi._

I know.

What. The. Fuck?!

Those two are _nothing_ alike!

As I sat on my be thinking, my brother walked in, looking guilty as fuck.

_Well this can't be good..._


End file.
